


The Interrogator

by respoftw



Series: 2018 Hurt/Comfort Bingo [21]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 15:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: John caught sight of himself in the mirror and grimaced, moving quickly to finish up at the sink and escape his reflection.





	The Interrogator

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Interrogation
> 
> I've marked it as gen but basically all gen in this fandom is just pre-slash in my head so...

John caught sight of himself in the mirror and grimaced, moving quickly to finish up at the sink and escape his reflection.

His forehead was beaded in sweat that did nothing to warm up the cold that seemed to have wrapped itself around his skin. His skin was paler than normal; as if the past few hours had leached the colour right out of it.  Maybe they had. He sure as hell knew they were responsible for the bruised-looking bags under his eyes.

He finished washing his hands, head still down, and made a cursory attempt to dry them with the scratchy towel that hung beside the sink, noting that the towel was probably too damp to really get the job done but beyond caring.  He could do something about that another time. Right now, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and do his best to forget everything about today. 

He knew his plan was screwed as soon as he stepped out the bathroom to find Rodney waiting for him.

“Can this wait until tomorrow, Rodney?” he asked, trying hard to keep the begging out of his voice.  He headed directly towards his bed, sitting heavily on the mattress before starting to remove his boots.

Rodney watched, silently, from his place near the door until John had the first boot off.  

Sighing, John, straightened up and made a gesture with his hands.  “Fine, let’s get it over with. Say what you’re here to say.”

“You look like crap.”

John snorted in tired amusement.  “You came here just to tell me that?  Don’t I feel special?”

“No, I didn’t come here just to - - “ Rodney huffed a sigh.  “I came here to thank you for today but then I saw you looking all…”

“Crappy?” John suggested.  “Believe me, Rodney, you have nothing to thank me for.”

“No?”  Rodney crossed his arms in front of his chest, causing the shirt sleeves to rise up slightly, exposing the red welts that rope had left on Rodney’s wrists.

“No.”  John swallowed the bile that started to rise in his throat and moved on to the other boot.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He wasn’t surprised when Rodney didn’t take the hint and leave.  He _was_ surprised when Rodney moved to sit beside him on the bed, close enough that their legs brushed against each other.

“It’s possible,” Rodney haltingly admitted, “that I didn’t fully appreciate what I was asking you to do when I first suggested this.”

John closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the panic.  This was it. This was what he had been terrified would happen when Rodney first suggested it.  He was going to lose Rodney. Rodney hated him now. Of course he did, how could he not when John had spent the past few hours - - 

“I don’t hate you!” Rodney’s hands on his face jolted John back from his spiralling thoughts and he flinched hard, jerking away from Rodney’s touch.  He didn’t even realise he had been talking out loud.

Rodney moved his hands back immediately, giving John his space.  The way his mouth sloped downwards even more than usual told John he wasn’t happy about it but he did it anyway.  It was more than John deserved.

“You should have told me no,” Rodney said quietly.  “It didn’t have to be you.”

John was shaking his head before Rodney even finished his sentence.  Of course it had to be him. Did Rodney seriously think he would let anyone else do those things to Rodney, say those things to Rodney? Did Rodney seriously think he _could_?

The look on Rodney’s face told him that he’d spoken aloud without meaning to again.

“Ronon is going to take over my training,” Rodney said.  “Starting tomorrow.”

“No, look, Rodney, you don’t need - - “

“I do need it,” Rodney insisted.  “Frankly, I think all of the civilians on this expedition need it.  I caved when Kolya’s goons cut me and I caved again at the hands on those bastards on PX6-JY7.  I need to learn how to withstand interrogation if I don’t want to be a liability. I just - - it wasn’t fair of me to insist that you be the one to do it.  It was selfish and stupid and - - I trusted you not to make it too hard on me without giving a single thought to how hard it would be for you and - enjoy this because I don’t say it often Colonel - I was wrong.”

“You don’t hate me?” John asked, still tripping over the sentiment.  “Not even for this?” he brushed his fingers against Rodney’s abraded wrists.

“I could never hate you, John.”  Rodney flushed pink and stood, moving to leave.  “Anyway, I should let you get some sleep because of the whole looking like crap thing and - -”

John smiled.  “You say the nicest things.”

“Yes, well, you really are a self-sacrificing asshole sometimes but, well, you’re my - I mean _our_ self-sacrificing asshole so…”

“Goodnight Rodney.”

“Goodnight John.”

“Hey, Rodney?”  Rodney paused in front of John’s door, waiting.  “You sure you don’t hate me?”

Rodney answered without turning around.  “Not even a little bit.” The door slid open and he was gone a moment later.

John let himself fall, his back hitting the mattress and breathed through the guilt of the day.  Rodney didn’t hate him. That was good - that was - - John sighed. If Rodney thought he was going to let Ronon take over as interrogator tomorrow he had another thing coming.  At least he knew that Rodney wouldn’t hate him for it now.

Funny how that made all the difference in the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Next prompt is mercy killing ::rubs hands together in glee::


End file.
